Chapter 521: Katabasis

Clang, clang...

The sound of clashing blades rang out again and again as the scars of fierce combat filled the beach of the Dragon Graveyard.

Where the violet flames swept past, sand and stone burned to ash. Where hellfire burned, it kept burning without end, unquenchable even by the seawater.

Gareth stood his ground, weathering Milena's attacks over and over.

The lopsided fight had gone on for half an hour. Gareth's feet hadn't shifted an inch even as Milena charged again and again, breaking her own bones against his body.

A death knight's body was tough, but not tough enough to withstand this kind of reckless charging indefinitely. Fortunately, Black Rose was on hand. Reconstructing undead bodies was her specialty. She'd once restored Ambrose's entire body from nothing but a severed head with a casual flick of a finger. Milena's body had been built by Black Rose in the first place, so mending it was no great trouble.

Gareth was the one who suffered. He had to hold back constantly, terrified of accidentally killing his little niece by mistake.

And Milena wasn't weak at all. Gareth couldn't always calibrate his strength perfectly, and every slip earned him a venomous glare from Alabastra.

This couldn't go on. Otherwise, he'd be sleeping on the beach alone that night.

Gareth finally tossed his greatsword aside in resignation and simply held out his palm to block Milena's charge.

Milena froze, confused. "Mr. Gareth, what's wrong? Did I pass?"

Gareth wagged a finger. "It's not that easy. But charging in recklessly like this isn't getting you anywhere. Your raw strength isn't bad, but your actual technique is a complete mess."

"A mess?" Milena didn't follow. She just stood there blankly.

"Your fighting style is based on pure instinct. I'd guess Rose deliberately left some kind of 'muscle memory' baked into the raw materials when she built your body, because this reckless style is textbook orc fighting. This kind of self-punishing attack pattern helps trigger orc berserkers' bloodlust, but for you, it's purely a liability..."

In just a few words, Gareth pinpointed Milena's issues perfectly.

"The undead have their own way of fighting. Copying orcs is only going to limit your potential. Watch closely."

Gareth hooked the greatsword up off the ground with his foot and caught it in hand.

He swung once through the air. The arc of the strike was nearly identical to a move Milena had just used herself.

It looked almost the same, but Milena could tell at once that Gareth's version was noticeably faster. The difference in speed was visible to the naked eye.

Milena said, startled, "How? You're using about the same amount of force as I was."

"An undead's body is a strange thing. Our power doesn't come only from muscle and fascia. Feel your own arm—do you think you're built like a human? Your bones aren't even shaped the same. What drives our bodies is dark magic. Your muscles and bones only supply part of the power. Most of the time, honestly, they're holding you back. You need to fully master your own body, and the fighting techniques that belong to the undead."

In most other matters, Gareth might not be much of a thinker, but when it came to combat, he was the finest teacher there was, without question.

Under Gareth's instruction, Milena went so far as to cut open the skin of her own arm, carefully studying the changes happening inside with every application of force.

The undead felt no pain, but even so, this kind of training was nothing short of horrifying to watch.

Milena was treated like a cadaver on a dissection table, her limbs taken apart and reassembled again and again. Gareth even had Black Rose remodel her on the spot.

After an entire night of this, Milena had, quite literally, been remade down to her very bones.

When she picked up her sword again and came at Gareth once more, he could no longer fight one-handed while lecturing at the same time. The Dullahan finally had to give her his full attention.

Milena had activated her anti-magic barrier, and the dark magic running through Gareth's own body was affected by it. That closed the raw power gap between them considerably, and Gareth no longer held an overwhelming edge.

From there on, it would come down to skill.

Close combat for the undead involved contortions impossible for the living. Gareth's arms could bend as freely as a whip. His greatsword cut at unreasonable angles; after every swing, he could snap the blade back around as if he were cracking a lash, causing the strike to whistle back at a speed that broke the sound barrier.

Against attacks like that, Milena quickly learned how to turn every part of her own body into a weapon.

The undead ignored pain, and most of them had no vital weaknesses, so in theory the fighting could continue indefinitely.

From afar, it looked as if two lumps of dough were thrashing wildly at each other. Most of the "moves" involved could no longer be called that, since they'd gone well past what imagination alone could produce.

This time, Milena lasted a full twenty minutes before Gareth finally sent her flying again.

Covered in wounds from head to toe, Milena once again felt her body torn open.

But that was fine. Mere lacerations were nothing. Milena struggled back to her feet, ready to press the attack again, but Gareth, who didn't have a scratch on him at all, wagged his finger again.

"That's enough for today. What you need now is rest. Forget specific movements—just hold onto the feeling of the fight. In a real battle between true powerhouses, you won't have time to think at all. So trust your instincts, and train those instincts. That's how you get stronger."

His lesson delivered, Gareth sheathed his greatsword and hurried back over to Alabastra. Seeing her expression darken, he explained hastily, "I really was teaching her seriously! Milena's incredibly talented, and teaching her right means being tough on her. I swear I wasn't hurting her on purpose..."

Milena couldn't quite process the sight: the godlike Gareth from moments ago had suddenly been reduced to a henpecked husband groveling before his wife.

But grown-up business like that wasn't Milena's concern. She hurried over to have Black Rose mend her body, then set about carefully replaying the feel of the fight in her mind.

This brutal training regimen continued for nearly half a month, until the beach on Dragon Graveyard was stained everywhere with Milena's blood. Gareth finally nodded to Black Rose. "That should do it. As long as she stays alert, sending her into Hell to deliver a message shouldn't be a problem."

Milena wiped the blood from her face and turned to Black Rose, eyes bright with excitement.

"Mother, we had a deal!"

Black Rose sighed, resigned. "Fine. Rest up first. Once your wounds have healed, you can head to Hell."

"Wonderful!"

Milena beamed. She could finally go to Hell and find her father.

Black Rose sighed again and carefully set about mending Milena's battered body. Fortunately, Alabastra hadn't been stingy with materials. She even brought out a heap of dragonbone to reinforce Milena's frame.

Dragon bones were the finest material out there. It was part of why Milena had grown so much stronger in such a short time, and not, as Gareth insisted, because he'd been going easy on her out of fear of his wife.

Once Milena's wounds had fully healed, Black Rose had her suit up in full gear.

Enchanted armor freshly forged by the Unholy Kingdom's finest craftsmen, the longsword artifact blessed by Sariel, and an assortment of magical scrolls...

Once all her preparation was complete, Black Rose watched as Milena summoned a Hellgate, then plunged headfirst through the blazing threshold.

Black Rose clenched her fists and murmured, "Milena, come back safe, and find your father."

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